Page 2936 -- CCLVI.

Chapter Two Hundred Fifty-Six: 'Thine intervening ambitions...'
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

For what must have been the thirtieth time today, Francisco Elroy hit the dirt with a heavy thud. He decided to stay there for a while longer. He wasn't prepared to give up quite yet, but the thought grew more tempting each time he found himself kissing the ground like this again.

He was exhausted. And sore all over. His vigor had worn off a while ago, which should have been his cue to go rest, but he wanted to make the most of his training while he still could. For as much as he disliked Damian Rofal, Cisco had to acknowledge that these sparring sessions were invaluable.

And once he and Dunstan escaped, they might never be able to receive this level of instruction again.

Crazy as it was to consider, a part of him thought that maybe it would be better not to escape. To just let the old bastard have his way. To make use of these messed up circumstances for as long as they might continue.

The worst part was, it actually made sense. He could see the logic in it.

And maybe a bit more than just logic...

Now that Damian had taken him and rest of the Rofals away from that damn cabin in the mountains, things were quite different. He'd brought them out to Melmoore.

To the front lines of the continental war.

It had barely been a week since they'd arrived, and he'd already witnessed more real combat than in the rest of his life combined.

Witnessed, but not exactly participated in. The amount of actual fighting he'd done was still comparatively minimal. Why Damian had bothered to bring them to a war zone if he didn't intend to make them fight, Cisco had no idea.

He wasn't necessarily complaining about that part, though.